


dinde pour trois

by podcastalien



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Abigail is hannibals adopted daughter, Autistic Will Graham, Everything is Fine AU, Hannibal is Not a Cannibal, M/M, Thanksgiving fun, will loves his dogs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27742174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/podcastalien/pseuds/podcastalien
Summary: Will's thanksgiving takes an unexpected turn
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	dinde pour trois

**Author's Note:**

> hi hi hi this is my first time writing for the Hannibal fandom and this is just some holiday stuff with characters who arent serial killers <3

_Beverly Katz: Last chance, Will. Joyce and I would love to have you._

Will awoke to the ping of his phone, lit up the a text from Beverly. It was just one of the many he had received this week inviting him to Bev and her girlfriend’s thanksgiving dinner. He had made the mistake of mentioning he would be spending the holiday alone when asked about his plans at the bureau. To his discomfort, this prompted many a pity invitation to his co-worker’s dinners, to which he politely, but ungracefully, declined. Unlike their coworkers, Beverly hadn’t given up. Will hated having people fret over him, despite people’s best intentions, it came off as disingenuous. Besides, he would much rather spend a day designated off for arbitrary reasons with his dogs, who actually seemed to enjoy his company. Navigating the intricacies of someone else’s family dinner table combined with the regularly overwhelming nature of social niceties was not a well spent holiday in Will’s opinion.

Will stretched and reached for his phone on the bedside table, his eyes scanning over the text. He sighed and ran his hand through his shaggy head of hair. He sighed and began typing his response,

_I really appreciate it Bev, but I’m not really much of Thanksgiving person like I said. And I don’t think I should leave the dogs alone, Buster’s leg is still healing and Ellie has a nasty ear infection._

None of this was a lie, still, he felt guilty for denying Beverly’s invitation.

She responded as he greeted the dogs and prepared them to go outside.

_Beverly Katz: Well you’re still welcome anytime, even just for desert. You can bring Ellie and Buster if you want, I’ll have Joyce take a benadryl just in case._

He really wished she would stop pushing. He knew why people did this, it certainly wasn’t because anyone was dying to have a socially awkward, anxiety ridden FBI profiler sit at their table and occasionally speak when spoken to. This dance of concern around him was simply a measure to ease any guilt one feels when they look upon a person in a “worse” situation. Will had been gifted pity many times, Beverly’s wrapping was just the most decorative.

He slipped on his shoes and took the dogs outside. The air was stagnantly cool, no harsh wind whistling through the trees, though it would come soon enough, as winter crept closer and closer. He felt a calm wash over him watching the dogs play in the open field. In it, he resolved to make a fire back inside and spend the day relaxing by it with his pack.

————————-

Several hours passed warmed by the blazing fire. Will indulged himself in a few fingers of fine whiskey he’d been saving. His favorite piano record played softly from his turn table as the dogs slept by his side, taking turns sitting in his lap. He smiled as they leaned their heads into his touch, knowing he couldn’t be in better company.

He wasn’t drunk, but it occurred to him that he might want to slow down, as he suddenly realized he’d hadn’t eaten all day. He reached for his phone to look up the number of the nearest Thai restaurant when the door bell chimed.

Anxiety shot through his system like a bullet as the dogs all got up, suddenly ripping through the cloud of peace that settled over their little home in the past few hours. Will cloaked himself in his robe and peaked through the curtains.

A teenage girl with long brown hair stood at his door, _maybe a neighbor’s daughter_? His closest neighbor was a farmer, though he’d never seen him with any family. He was tempted to ignore the girl, but his conscience apparently wouldn’t allow it today. He sucked in a shaky breath and undid the lock on the door.

“Hello,” he greeted sheepishly.

The girl stuck out her hand to shake, “Hi! You must be professor Graham, my father has told me so much about you.”

“Your father?” He weakly took her hand, _someone from the bureau_?

“Oh, nothing breaking confidentiality, of course. I’m just interested in your field, my father has told me about some of the cases you work together.”

It clicked just as a figure approached his doorstep carrying a large plate covered in tin foil.

“Dr. Lecter?”

The doctor met his eye smiled his casual, disarmingly charming smile that greeted Will every Thursday night in his office.

“Hello, Will.”

“What are you doing here? What is that?” Will cringed at the sound of his own jumpy, defensive voice. He felt overly exposed on his porch, in a robe, glasses of whiskey sloshing in his stomach like some pitiful, drunken uncle of the well dressed family before him.

“Beverly told me you would be spending Thanksgiving alone, my daughter and I wondered if we couldn’t bring our dinner to share with you.”

Regret rushed into him. _He should’ve just gone over to Beverly’s, this is ten times more embarrassing. He had inadvertently made people come to him_. _He didn’t want all this, was it so much to just be left alone?_

“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

“Forgive me, Will this is Abigail.”

Abigail smiled an almost equally charming smile to Hannibal’s, _takes after her father,_ Will thought.

“We were just getting aquatinted, actually,” she chimed.

Will once again cut through the air of politeness created by the two, “Isn’t this unprofessional? Inappropriate, in the patient-client sense?”

Dr. Lecter had a way of bending the social rules into new ones, ones that fit him better,convincing everyone with such a grace that this was the correct way of doing things. Will had no such skill, and thus, not much room to protest.

“I am not here as your psychiatrist, Will. I’m here as your co-worker.”

“I’m not sure this fits into the realm of conventional co-worker relations either, Dr. Lecter.”

“Than I am here as your friend.”

Will’s face heated slightly, he prayed not enough to be noticeable, his wardrobe choices and lack of agility in this encounter were embarrassing enough.

“I hope we haven’t imposed, but I really must insist you try dad’s pumpkin pie, it’s one of the few things I got him to cook traditionally for us.”

It kicked in, _just slightly too late_ , that Will was being a bad host to a young girl who’d willingly come with her father to a strange man’s home in the middle of no where to spend a holiday he was sure she’d rather be spending else where.

Will smiled, “Come on inside, I hope you don’t mind dogs, Abigail.”

As soon as he ushered the two in, the whole pack was on her, jumping excitedly and sniffing with delight.

“Guys, hey, easy,” Will tried to ease them, “I’m so sorry Abigail, they’re not accustomed to guests.”

Luckily, she seemed to match their excitement. “Don’t apologize, I love dogs.” She took turns petting each of the dogs, speaking to them softly and scratching behind Winston’s ears, just the way he liked.

Will’s face glowed red with embarrassment, “They’ll get hair all over your dress.”

Hannibal interjected, “I can’t imagine the owner of so many little friends is isn’t also the owner of more than a few sturdy lint brushes. Will, would you help me with the rest of the food in the car?”

Will slipped on his house shoes, following Hannibal back out to his Bentley.

He tried to hold back his questioning, but the sudden appearance of a daughter made him wonder what else he didn’t know about Hannibal’s life. Will’s stomach churned with guilt at the thought of Hannibal and Abigail being here instead of at home with… well he didn’t know.

“Wouldn’t you rather be spending Thanksgiving with your wife?”

The psychiatrist chuckled,“Will, don’t lead me to believe your profiling skills are lacking, you know I’m not married. If you’re attempting to inquire about Abigail’s origins, she is not my biological daughter, but she is my child nonetheless.”

“I- I didn’t mean to imply-“

“Will,” Hannibal placed a hand on his shoulder, making him visibly shiver, an embarrassing reminder of the stable lack of human touch in his life. He silently gritted his teeth and Hannibal removed his hand.“Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Will shook his head, keeping it down to avoid the Doctor’s sharp eye.

“Let us spend the holiday with you, it will just be the three of us.”

Will silently hesitated.

He spoke softly, “I imagine you are having some anxiety about having people in your space.”

Will huffed, “Psychoanalyzing me in my own drive way. I guess you can still surprise me, Doctor.”

“Please, call me Hannibal. And don’t worry about myself or Abigail judging you. Your life is not a horror or shame you must hide from others, Will. Tell me why you are so hesitant.” 

Will’s feelings about all of this bubbled over and out of his mouth like water on a heated stove, “I try to stop myself from inflicting on others, but then they put me in a position to, by inviting me places, by doing what you’re doing. It’s disingenuous and no one enjoys it. It’s an outdated nicety.” He voice had raised slightly out of all the frustration and embarrassment.

Hannibal looked in his eyes, pausing as Will caught his breath. He finally spoke steadily, “All of your skill in empathy apparently cannot account for the way others feel about you. It’s presumptuous and slightly belittling of you to assume we are all so tightly tethered to niceties. I know Beverly most certainly is not. Is it really so hard to believe that I would like to spend the day with you?”

_Yes,_ Will thought. 

Winston barked from inside.

“We should head back in, Winston worries.”

The doctor cocked an eyebrow, “About you?”

He nodded.

“Winston shares that with many of your peers.”

Will rolled his eyes, “For the last time, I don’t need anyone worrying about me. I’m fine. What is so incomprehensible to everyone about not wanting to spend intimate time together with people who don’t actually want to be with you?” Will’s voice raised unintentionally again in his defensiveness.

Hannibal kept a steadiness about his face. “I have no motive for being dishonest about my enjoyment of your company, Will. But, you do find the holidays intimate?”

Will sucked in a sharp breath, releasing it into, “Yes. Uncomfortably so.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Hannibal placed his hand back on Will’s shoulder, “Uncomfortable, that is.” 

He removed it just as suddenly, not letting Will fester in the emotion that came with touch. “Come on then, show me into your kitchen.”

———————-

They came back inside, plates and containers in hand. Will wondered what Hannibal could’ve conjured up, given his inclination to prepare a feast in regular circumstances. He showed him the workings of his kitchen appliances. “I know it’s not the quality, you’re used to.”

Hannibal smiled, “This will do perfectly fine. Go get decent, Will, if you would. I would like you to be dressed for my table.”

“Technically, Dr. Lecter, it’s my table.”

“He has a point.” Abigail chimed in from the living room, still with the dogs.

The two met eyes and chuckled lightly.

“Be that as it may, we are sharing a meal I prepared, I will finish heating things up and Abigail, you will set the table. Will, please show her to your china cabinet before you head upstairs.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he used it, he was unsure if they were even clean of dust, “Sure.”

He led Abigail to the dining room and flipped on the dim overhead lights. He approached the china cabinet and knelt down to reach the plates, handing them up to Abigail, unsure of what to say to her.

“You have a beautiful home.”

Will laughed, “Your father and his friends at work would disagree. They think this place is a shed out in the woods.”

“Is that what dad says? He tells me he loves this place, says its peaceful. I’d have to agree.”

Will looked up at her, handing her the silverware, “Really?”

She nodded, “Every time he comes home from your place,” She put on an imitation of her father’s cadence “Will’s home is so lovely, so quiet and charming in the country.”

Will laughed, “Well, I would say he’s welcome anytime, but apparently he’s going to come over when he pleases anyway.”

Abigail was quiet for a moment, “I really am sorry if we disturbed you, I tried to talk him down from it, but you know how he gets, I’m sure.”

“No, no don’t apologize.” He didn’t know what else to say, realizing that in his own vocal discomfort at the situation, he’d probably made Abigail feel unwanted or uncomfortable. He stood. “It was very kind of you and your father to come over, it was just unexpected as all. I’m sure Hanni- your father, has told you I’m not the overly social type.”

She nodded.

“But I really do appreciate this, I hope I didn’t come in the way of any of your holiday plans.”

Will watched her face visibly relax, “I didn’t have any to be honest, just studying and dinner with dad.”

“Well if you brought anything, you’re welcome to use my study, coincidentally where the wine glasses are, down the hall and to the right. I’m going to go put on something decent before your dad kills me.”

Abigail smiled and headed down the hall.

————-

Will quickly showered, startled by how comfortable he felt with his guests having free rein of his house. He combed and gelled his hair and chose a dark red button down with black dress slacks. He padded down to the kitchen to greet Hannibal, who had shed his peacoat for his cooking apron, his sleeves rolled up showing off his toned forearms. Hannibal turned to him after a moment, “Don’t you look handsome,” he smiled, “come here.”

Will approached him hesitantly, a lump had lodged itself in his throat, accompanying his reddened cheeks after Hanniabl’s compliment.

“I don’t bite,” he said as Will closed in. Hannibal reached around Will’s shoulders, flattening the back of his collar. His thumb ran gently along Will's sensitive neck, accidental contact, _but then again nothing Hannibal ever did was an accident_. Will’s heart rattled in his chest. He finished by patting Will’s shoulders, running his hands down his arms. Will’s breath hitched.

“Beautiful,” He stated, like he was looking at some masterpiece of fifteen century art and not his _patient? friend?_ In dress clothes.

Just as suddenly Hannibal pulled back, “Abigail, dear,is the table ready?”

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr- coffeekaspbrak !  
> lmk if you want another chapter! I have some fun ideas for dinner and this can go beyond a thanksgiving story! also happy holidays to all, I had to spend the holiday alone this year and if you did too or just had a tough time with your family please remember that your health comes first, take care of yourself. Thankful for you all :)


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